


Frostbitten

by dreamingwitheyesclosed



Category: rise of the guardians
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingwitheyesclosed/pseuds/dreamingwitheyesclosed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Overland, the miracle boy that had escaped death. Jack Frost, the mysterious spirit trying to find his purpose in this world. They were two sides of the same coin and equal in ignorance. The air was frigid with the cold, but together there was warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating subject to change. There's not enough Frostcest out there.

He had escaped death not once but  _twice_  in less than a month. The first time was in December. He had taken his little, precious, baby sister out ice skating. They had not realized the ice was too thin. He had saved her from the cracking ice beneath her skates only to plumet into the frigid waters himself. He was sure death would take him. He did not know how to swim, could not move from the cold that paralyzed him, and could not breathe as icy water filled his lungs.

Something caught him though, just when he thought it was over. Something hooked around him and pulled him out of the water just before he blacked out. When he awoke, he felt hot and delirious.

He was home, in his bed, alive. But fever had set in. He was diagnosed with pneumonia and the doctor was not sure he would even make it. His young sister stayed beside him the entire time, tending to him. His mother had to feed him. His father bathed him. He was far too weak to so much as lift his head.

He honestly could not remember anything from that time. He had brief glimpses of his mother praying beside him and his sister laid snow on his head to try and cool him down. The doctor had some leeches that he used to try and drain the sickness and he remembered wiping them off in disgust.

There was a lot of dreams, too. They were very vivid. He was skating on ice, fantastic fern-like patterns following him. He was in the air, touching the clouds. He was a ghost and people walked right through him.

When the fever finally broke, he felt maybe perhaps he was still experiencing delusions. He felt as if he was no longer  _whole_. There had to be a chunk of him missing. Maybe. It was hard to say for sure. Well, all of him was still there physically. Maybe he lost his mind. Did he ever even have one?

It was halfway through January when Jackson Overland had recovered completely. His sister, Jill, was overly ecstatic. His parents, James and Johanna, were thanking the Lord for his good fortune. He survived. He would live when so many would have parished. This boy was a miracle.

He had survived drowning in a pond. He had beaten back disease. He had lived.

When Jackson was told of his feats (for he had even forgotten that he had gone skating), he was amazed. His little sister had managed to pull him to the surface of the water, using the hooked staff he used to save her. She could not pull him out of the water, but she kept him afloat until her screams summoned assistance. One of the men from the village pulled him out and resuscitated him.

How was he alive? The God his parents and the rest of his village was so fond of and feared must have loved him or had bigger plans for him. Jackson was never quite the religious type. His parents assumed in his youth it was because of his young ignorance, but the disbelief never really left him. He never cared enough about the gospel, the bible, and all of those silly rules that the believers followed. He did not patronize anyone for their faith, he just chose to not abide by it. His mother sworn he would be damned. But here he was, alive when he should not be by any means. This God must have been merciful. His mother had hoped that this would restore faith within the boy.

Nope. Jackson continued to show no interest in religion. Of course, in the village, he had to put on a show he was just as God-fearing as they were lest he be cast out and shamed. His parents did their best to hide away he's heathen ways, but it wasn't like he was  _sinning_. He was a good man. He had morals from his upbringing. He just did not fear hell nor anticipate heaven.

The last few days of his recovery, Jackson contemplated his position. How had he lived? And was he truly becoming well? While he had felt 100% better, there was still something… off. Like a limb that never existed had been removed. Something was missing. He had done an inventory on his body and it seemed everything was still there. Maybe except for his sanity, but the boy never really had it to begin with. At least, he thought so. Well, maybe it was because of his insanity that he felt this way. That had to be it.

When Jackson was given the okay to be able to move around again, he jumped with joy. He went outside in the snow, hardly dressed for the weather, and did a cartwheel and back flip. His sister stood on the porch, clapping happily. He grinned at her and took her into his arms before falling back into the snow and rolling around with her. Their parents begged them to come inside. Jackson was going to get sick again and God-forbid Jill came down with something.

Jackson carried the girl inside and lifted her up, spinning her. He could now be properly grateful that she was safe from harm. That she had lived that near-tragedy at the pond. He would have very willingly given his life for hers. But she had been able to spare him from that. She had turned around and saved  _him_. She was the hero in all of this.

Jackson did whatever she wanted. He was putty in her hands. He wished he could give her the world. That night, he gave her piggyback rides around the cabin, played whatever game she wanted, and attempted braiding her hair, only because she asked to have it braided for bed. He also gave her a portion of her meal when she asked for more. The family had not been able to gather enough food for the unexpectedly harsh winter and were running on rations. They barely made enough to survive. But Jill was hungry and, even though Jackson had lost a lot of weight over the course of the illness, he gave her what she asked for.

That night, they looked out the windows and up into the sky. The fire from the center of town burned brightly, filling their shared room with an orange glow. They counted the stars, or at least tried. Jackson did not know how to count very high. Jill was learning, though and she tried to teach him what she knew. The schoolhouse had not been built until Jackson was fifteen and he had only gone for a few years. But he was considered an adult and no longer was able to attend.

Jackson was strange. He always had been. He was supposed to be married now, but let the opportunity pass him by. He was less interested in having a family and more interested in entertaining children and playing pranks. He knew the villagers talked, but he didn't care. His own family, right here and now, were more important than anything. He was content and did not want to ruin that with a wife. He didn't even know if he could be a father. It was too much work. He did not want to be like his own father.

Not to menton their little village was still growing when he was small. There were perhaps five families at that time. Three of them had children in Jackson's generation. The only girl around his age was married to the boy and they were expecting their first child in April. In the last years, the population boomed, welcoming new settlers and more children were being born.

The next day, things were back to normal. Jackson and Jill started their morning chores, right and early. He walked with Jill to the well with an axe in hand to chop up some wood to heat the stove and cabin. While she drew water, he cut down a few thick branches and collected some logs from the community wood pile. There were other children closer to Jill's age than Jackson's that had also congregated. When they saw Jackson was finally well, they ran straight for him!

Jackson greeted them with his usual grin and silly quip. They pulled out crafts they had done and wood they had whittled to show him. They wanted to show him what new things they had accomplished and what new games they had come up with. Oh! He was excited for those! He promised after the chores that they could most certainly show him their tricks and they had to play those games for sure!

Jill took Jackson's hand, the heavy pale in her other. Jackson tied his tarp of wood and dragged it behind them as the siblings headed out of the well clearing and towards their home. Then… something cold hit the back of Jackson's neck. He laughed and turned to the kids.

"Hey! Who threw that?" he brushed snow from his coat and crouched down to make his own snowball. All of the children looked rather confused. Wait… had none of them threw it?

There was a boy near the path Jackson knew so well. It lead to the pond that he had almost drowned in. He looked about Jackson's age and had curious white hair. He seemed giddy and uncertain all at once. He adjusted his grip on a staff and tossed a snowball up before catching it, his gaze moving carefully over the children. It was as if he was choosing his next target.

So, Jackson did what anyone would. He threw the snowball at him. The children giggled and watched where Jackson threw the snow. Then, laughed for some strange reason.

"You missed, Jack!" Jill laughed.

Jackson frowned. Did she not just see that he had hit the dumbfounded stranger right in the face? "No, I didn't."

The boy timidly stepped forward before quickly stepping back. He shuffled on his bare toes before running into the forest. What? Why did he run? Jackson set off after him. He was just playing. That's what the boy was doing, right? He was trying to start a game. He wanted to be included in something, especially since it seemed like nobody had noticed him. Why didn't they notice him? How could you  _not_  see a boy with white hair like that?

Jackson chased the boy. He moved clumsily, yet lightly. As if gravity did not quite apply to him the same way it applied to Jackson. Though, he seemed to still be getting used to how to work this body. Jackson called for him to slow down. To wait. He just wanted to play, too. He wanted to apologize if that was not the boy's intent.

He finally caught up with him at the pond. Just as the boy was about to step onto the surface with bare feet, Jackson called to him in the most demanding voice he could muster. The boy stopped, just on the shores of the frozen waters. Jackson panted, winded from the chase. The boy shifted on the frozen mud and leaned against his staff. How was he not tired from all that running? It was quite a distance from the village.

"Sorry, okay?" Jackson breathed, clutching a stitch in his chest. "I thought you were trying to start a game."

"I… I was." Jackson looked up and met the boy's bright blue eyes. He seemed so confused, but so happy. Jackson returned his grin. "You can really… you can really see me." The boy let out a laugh of disbelief. "He sees me." He stepped forward. "You see me!"

Jackson furrowed his brows. "Of course I can." Jackson stepped closer to him and he stepped back. Jackson was able to see that they were the same height. And… that cloak looked way too familiar. Jackson looked down at the one he was wearing. They were the same. Jackson shrugged, though. He was certain that the style wasn't uncommon. "Why wouldn't I be able to see you?"

The boy's eyes fell downcast. He adjusted his grip on his staff and Jackson was close enough to see that there was  _frost_  coating the twisted wood. Wouldn't his hands melt the ice? They should. It wasn't all that cold today. "Nobody ever sees me." the boy admitted in a low voice. "I don't… I don't know why. I don't understand it…" He looked up. "But  _you_  can!"

He seemed genuinely heartbroken that he was invisible. Jack stepped closer and the boy stepped back again. "You just need to put yourself out there. Get people to notice you."

"I've tried."

"Clearly not hard enough," Jackson grinned. "Come on, let's go back to the village and I'll introduce you. When we all finish our chores, we can have some fun." And maybe get him some shoes. The boy was pale as death and everything around him was frozen. The ground, the staff he carried, even his cloak had frost coating it.

The boy nervously stepped back onto the ice when Jackson reached for his arm. Jackson crossed over, just toeing the edge of the ice. "H-Hey… come on. It's okay. Come on. Get off of the ice." What if the frozen pond was still not thick enough to hold him? He did not want the boy to fall through, just as he did. "Let's go home."

The boy furrowed his brows. "Home?"

Did he not have a home? Jackson reached to grab for him, but he was just out of reach. The boy turned his back to Jackson and walked towards the middle of the of the pond. "You know… where you live? Where you sleep?"

"Sleep?" The boy turned back to Jackson. "You mean what they do in the village? When they lay down in their beds and close their eyes when it's dark?"

Hold on just one moment. What the heck? "Do you… do you not sleep?"

The boy with the white hair shook his head and pressed his lips together. "No."

"You don't… you don't have a home?"

He thought for a moment. "A home is… a place you always go back to, right?" Jackson nodded. "Then… Then I guess this is my home." He opened his arms wide to gesture to the pond. "This is where I come back to. It's where I was born. It's… it's all I know."

Oh…  _oh._ He was an orphan? Was he all alone in this world? Jackson carefully stepped onto the ice and stepped closer to him. What was he doing? He wasn't sure. All he knew was he needed to show the boy he didn't  _have_  to be alone. He wanted to be his friend. He wanted to be there even if no one else saw him.

It was strange, though. Jackson had lived in this village all of his life. He had never once seen  _this_  boy that looked so close to his age. There was himself, Eliza, and Jonathan. They were all born within five years of each other. He wished he would have known about this boy. He was sorry he had not seen him before.

Jackson smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Jack Overland."

The boy looked at Jackson's hand, then to his face. He hesitantly reached for Jackson's extended hand before snatching his own back. Did he know what to do with it? Jackson reached for his wrist and brought his hand to meet his own.  _Wow_ his hand was cold. He was like ice.

The boy gasped. He grasped Jackson's hand in both of his after adjusting his staff to rest in the crook of his elbow and grinned brightly. He reached up and touched Jackson's shoulders and face. Well, this was strange. The boy pressed a hand on Jackson's chest and pushed him, laughing a bit. Jackson was unsteadied on the ice and stumbled but held his ground.

"So… what's your name?" Jackson asked. Man, this guy was weird.

Jackson had not been able to get a proper look at him. Now that the distance had closed, he felt a sort of… familiarity. There was something about this boy that looked way too familiar. The shape of his cheekbones and jaw. His thin and gangly body structure. The size of his forehead and the shape of his eyes. Why was it all so familiar looking? Where had Jackson seen him before?

But it was impossible. He had never seen anyone so young with white hair or with impossibly blue eyes that reminded Jackson of snowflakes. Why was his hair white? Perhaps he had been so terrified, it became that pure color. Jackson had heard of that happening. Or maybe… there was something else. This boy in front of him had something strange about him. He felt as if he were in the presence of… something otherworldly.

Maybe that was why the boy did not have a home and did not sleep. Maybe… maybe… no. Jackson would not determine who this boy was just yet. Maybe he had just been a child that had grown up on his own in this forest. He was just as normal as Jackson, he was sure. He just was under strange circumstances.

"I'm… I'm Jack Frost."


	2. Chapter 2

Jack wasn't an uncommon name, so Jackson thought nothing of it when the boy with the white hair introduced himself as Jack Frost. They shared the same first name. Jackson felt it wasn't the only thing they shared, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He grinned and steadied himself on the ice. "Well then, shouldn't be too hard to forget, right?"

The other gave him an uncertain smile in return. He shifted his bare feet on the frozen surface before peering back to Jackson. Jack seemed so uncertain and he was so cautious around Jackson. Perhaps his isolation had left him dubious about Jackson's show of kindness. Jack hesitantly reached back to him and touched his shoulder. He smiled again and Jackson had to strain to hear what Jack whispered in a breath.

_"I can touch him!"_

"JACK!" Jack and Jackson turned to the forest. Jackson's little sister, Jill, stood just at the edge of the pond, red in the face and trying to catch her breath. Her eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill over. "JACK! GET OFF THE ICE!  _PLEASE_!"

Jackson's chest tightened. He was worrying his sister. He had almost died right in here and she was clearly scared it would happen again. Jackson carefully moved off of the ice. He occasionally grabbed Jack to steady himself. Jack seemed much more adept at walking on the slippery surface than Jackson. Maybe because of the bare feet or he simply walked on it often. Jack must have been very lucky or very knowing about how ice worked.

When he finally reached her, she ran into Jackson's arms, sobbing. "Jack! Don't go on the ice again! Please! Never again." she begged. Jackson stroked her hair, hushing her. He crouched to her level and wiped her face dry.

"Look, see Jill? We're fine." He brushed hair from the stickiness of her tears. "Don't cry, okay? I'm okay."

"Why did you come here all by yourself?" she sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "You just ran off and left me alone."

"I'm sorry, Jill." Jackson pulled her into a tight embrace. "I won't scare you again. I promise." Hold on one moment. Jackson looked back to Jack. He wasn't alone. He was with Jack. He followed Jack here. Had she not seen that he chased the boy?

Jack shifted uncomfortably. He watched Jill, his blue eyes showed a sort of tenderness. Why? He had never met Jill. He hadn't need to show any concern for her. Perhaps he just liked children? He must have been like Jackson. Maybe he wanted to play with the children. He had tried to start a game with them before.

"Jill, I wasn't—"

Jack pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head. He stepped around behind Jill. Jackson watched, furrowing his brows. Jill had paid the boy no mind. It was like he was invisible to her. Jackson knew Jill was not a rude girl. She was shy, especially around strangers. And she was certainly not bashful around this stranger. It was like he wasn't even there.

Jack's hand hovered timidly over the crown of Jill's head, just barely above her scalp. Jackson stood up, frowning. The girl's face turned upward and Jack's hand met her forehead. Or rather…  _passed right through her_.

What?!  _What exactly was what?_

Jack pulled his fist away and retreated from the siblings. Jackson pulled Jill away from the strange boy. What was he? Why couldn't Jill see him? How did he pass right through her as if he was just smoke? This boy… no. No, he wasn't human. He had to be a spirit of some kind. He was a ghost. He was certain.

He had assumed there was something strange about this boy. Jackson tried not to think about it. It walked and talked and acted human enough. Jackson could touch him. But the proof that the boy wasn't… wasn't… what was he?! Jackson never thought he would be afraid of ghosts or spirits. Then again, he never thought he'd come across one. Now, being in the presence of  _whatever this boy was_  terrified him. Whatever he was, Jackson realized it wasn't  _right_. He was a strange creature in his sleepy little village where nothing ever happened. Jack Frost, whoever he was, wasn't…

"What…" Jackson lifted Jill into his arms and edged towards the trail. "What are you?"

Jack's eyes widened and he clutched his staff tightly. His lips pressed together as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. Jack floundered and looked towards the sky, his eyes seeking answers.  _He didn't even know what he was!_

Jackson bolted, carrying his sister. Jill yelped in surprise as her brother ran from the pond.

"Jack! What's wrong?" Jill cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly to brace against the jostling. "Jack! Slow down—ah!" she screamed when Jackson tripped over a root. He held her tightly and scrambled to steady himself.

He needed to put as much distance between himself and whatever the hell that boy was. He didn't stop until they were back in the well clearing. Jackson leaned against a tree to catch his breath and slid into the snow, holding Jill. She pulled herself away from him and took his face in her small hands.

"Jack… are you okay?"

Jackson forced a smile. "What? You don't like when I carry you anymore? You're getting big, you know. Soon, I won't be able to carry you. Get it while you can."

"You're white as a sheet," Jill frowned and wiped sweat from his brow. "Are you scared?"

"No, no." Jackson shook his head, standing up once he caught his breath. "You're the scaredy-cat." She giggled when he bopped her nose and set her down next to the pail she dropped in her hurry to chase her brother.

Jackson looked over his shoulder, scanning the forest. All clear. Maybe, hopefully, perhaps Jackson really  _was_  insane. Maybe that boy wasn't real at all. Maybe Jackson made him up. There was no Jack Frost. Just someone his mind had made up. Those delirious and vivid dreams were coming to life.

Wait… were they? Did he dream up the boy? Well… he did dream about being a ghost. Unseen, unheard, and untouchable to everyone. Isn't that what Jack Frost was? A ghost? A figment of Jackson's imagination. Perhaps he would investigate further once he was sure he was better.

After the siblings had done their chores, Jackson took the children and gathered them by the warmth of the center fire. He told them fantastic stories he wove from his dreams and they showed him their new games. They were amazing! Jackson chased the children, knowing full well he was being watched by the adults and judged. Even Jonathan and Eliza, whom were twenty-one and sixteen. Jackson had been close to them growing up, but he never actually  _grew_  up.

They should be happy, Jackson thought. He was keeping them out of trouble. Sure, he wasn't the best influence. But he was making sure they played safely, especially after what happened in December. He enjoyed playing their games and loved sitting with them and learning from them. Since the schoolteacher had insisted he was too old. So, the children went back and taught him what they learned every once in a while. But Jill went home every day to teach her brother.

That night, the events from the morning had long since been brushed away as a weird hallucination. He had not seen the Jack Frost boy since. Perhaps it was a fluke. He was still trying to shake the dreams from his mind. There was nothing there. Jill had seen nothing and heard nothing, therefore, it was all in Jack's head. One of the children had probably thrown the snowball.

Jackson sat with his father, whittling a new utensil for the kitchen. His father, James, smoothed out the tools Jackson had already carved. Johanna, his mother, was teaching Jill how to sew. As Jackson held back his work to admire it, something in the window caught his attention.

The window began to frost over. Beautiful plant-like patterns crept across the smooth surface. Whoah. He had seen frost like that, but he had never seen it as it was forming. Jackson moved closer, grinning from ear to ear to inspect it. That was cool. His father grabbed his attention, saying it as just ice and to get back to work.

Nobody appreciated the simple pleasures. Jackson gave the frost one last look before returning to work. Wait. A glimpse of white. Jackson opened the window only to see snowflakes ghosting past the window and settle on the porch. Weird. Was it snowing? Jackson leaned out the window and looked up to the sky. No… no snow.

His father called him with a firmer voice. He closed the window and sat back in his chair, commenting that he thought it was snowing. Jill began to bounce in her seat. Snow! She hoped it would snow! She loved when it snowed! It was so much fun!

That was strange. Last year, Jill hated the snow. It was cold. It was wet. It hurt. Jackson had tried his best to get her to see how wonderful it was. What happened that made her change her mind? Did something happen while he was down with fever? It must have. He wished he could have been there to experience her change of heart with her.

Over the next few days, Jackson's mind strayed back to Jack Frost when left unattended. He tried to shake the boy from his thoughts. He stayed away from the pond, at the request of his sister. Though he was tempted to go back and see if his hallucination was still where he left him, he kept his word to Jill.

Jackson had not seen hide nor hair of the boy. So, he figured the boy was just a figment. And Jackson did not go looking for ghosts and did not plan to until his mother requested something from him.

A plant at that grew near the pond. She asked him to keep his quest secret from Jill, knowing how much it would distress her. She wanted this plant that was in a book his father had brought back from closest town. They could not read much of it and Jackson wondered what they were doing with the book. And what was the plant for? Maybe food. There were berries on it.

Jackson slung a pack on his shoulders and moved stealthily through the village, keeping out of Jill's sight and out of the sight of other children lest they tell her where he escaped to. He tread on the familiar path, looking at the page of the book his mother gave him. The drawing of the plant was quite detailed. He shouldn't have trouble matching the image to the picture.

Jackson entered the pond clearing with trepidation. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried he'd start seeing things again. But he had been fine the last few days. It was just that one fluke, he told himself. If he worried about it, he would bring the visions upon himself. Deep breath, Jackson. Start looking.

Jackson searched the brush and the trees for the plant. He wasn't sure if he should look high or low, so he did both. Would the plant even survive the winter? His mother said it should. The schoolteacher had told her it did. That was what the text said.

He had searched all day. In the forest around the pond, on the rocks, and under the brush. He was starting to get hungry. He was tired. To quench his thirst, he ate snow. When Jackson felt hopeless that the plant had indeed died in the snow, he caught a glimpse of red. Ah!

Jackson skidded in the snow and stopped just short of the tiny bush. There it was! He laughed as he pulled out a knife and began to cut away branches. His mother had not specified how much she needed, so he cut off what he could carry in his bag. When he had filled it, he turned back to the bush. How had the plant still bore fruit?

Whatever. Jackson was hungry.

Jackson plucked the red berries from the bush. As much as he could could hold in both hands. He was ravenous. As the brunette raised his hands to empty the berries into his mouth, a cold hand stopped him.

"No! Stop!"

Jackson went frigid. He turned to the white haired frantic boy. He slapped the berries out of Jackson's hands and grabbed them with both of his.

"The animals stay away from them." Jack explained, nodding to the bush. "They scavenge for food but avoid this bush. That means it's dangerous. Don't eat them."

Oh Lord. He was here. He was right in front of him. And he… stopped him from getting possibly poisoned. Jackson glanced down at the berries on the ground that had… frozen? Jackson curiously looked from Jack to the berries on the ground and crouched down to inspect a berry. It as white and covered in ice. But… Jackson was just holding it. It wasn't… how?!

"I said don't eat it!" Jack cried out desperately.

"I'm… I'm not…" Jackson stood up. "It froze. Look." Jackson held it out. "It's covered in ice."

Jack was unsurprised. He took the berry and tossed it over his shoulder, unimpressed by the phenomenon. Why not?! That was amazing! Jackson picked up more berries, grinning. Was it the ground that froze them? Jackson plucked some fresh berries and dropped them. Nothing.

Jackson looked up to Jack to question what it could have been that froze them only to see the boy retreating from him. He gripped his staff and this time Jackson was close enough to notice something rather peculiar. The frost on the wood defrosted when Jack pulled his hands away from the wood. When he placed them back, ice shone beneath his fingers.

Jackson grabbed a fistful of the plant and lunged for Jack. Jack yelped out when Jackson grabbed his wrist and dropped the plant into his palm. Jackson's eyes widened when frost spread over the green leaves and the red fruits.  _Jack_  froze the berries! But how?

That was when Jackson realized… he wasn't scared anymore. He was  _curious_. Everything strange about Jack gnawed at his mind and he just wanted to  _know_  what this boy was and why and how come and _wow_  that was cool!

"What are you?" Jackson asked.

Jack pulled his hand away from Jackson, scowling. "What do you care? You're just going to run away again." Jackson frowned. Oh… Jack stepped away from Jackson. "You're just like him. You… You acknowledge me and then… and then leave. Are you not going to talk to me, too? No matter how much I ask, how much I beg, he doesn't say a  _word_." Jack turned his back, frustration tensing his shoulders. He slammed his staff on the ground and ice spread out from under him. Jackson stumbled back, stunned. "You left. You were… were you scared? I wonder if he's scared…."

"Jack… I…" Jackson moved closer to the boy. He didn't think he had hurt him. He tried to convince himself he wasn't real. But he was. He had to be. The proof was what he was able to do with the plant and the solidified snow around him. "I'm sorry. I was… I was scared. You weren't… you're different. And that's… we're taught to fear what is different or strange."

"You're different," Jack pointed to Jackson accusingly. "I wasn't scared. Okay, well, I was, but I didn't run away."

He was scared of Jackson? Why? Jackson wasn't anything different. Anything special. He was thin and far from burly or masculine. Not that he was feminine, but he was much more boyish than manly. Which was usually pretty intimidating from Jackson's experience. Point being, Jackson was far from scary.

"Why were you scared of me?" Jackson asked.

"Because… because you weren't like that girl. I could touch you. You could see me. You hear me. She… she  _never_  sees me. No matter how much I try." Jack explained. "No one does. And… and I don't know why. And… you're the first person who could see me. I didn't know what would happen. Just… the uncertainty of it all. And why are  _you_  different, Jack Overland?"

"Says the boy with white hair who freezes things." Jackson said flatly.

Jack's eyebrow rose. "You can't?"

"Uh… no?" Jackson crossed his arms. "Nobody can."

"Oh," Jack frowned. His eyes downcast and he leaned against his staff thoughtfully. This was _news_  to him. He wasn't aware that nobody could perform this… magic that Jack Frost could. Frost. Jack Frost. His name fit his power. What if…

"Are… are you a god?"

Jack furrowed his brows. "I… I don't think so. What's a 'god?'"

… What  _did_  Jack know? It seemed as if everything was so new to him. That he questioned everything and was full of curiosity. He paid attention when Jackson did not. If this bush was full of berries, that would mean the cold animals would find it for food. But they avoided it, so it would be dangerous, wouldn't it? Jack had noticed that. Jackson had not. But Jack did not know what a home was. Or a god. What else didn't he know?

"What are you?" Jackson asked. This time, he wouldn't run away. He would wait for Jack Frost to answer. He wasn't scared anymore.

Jack thought for a moment. He toed the snow under his feet that only just marked his presence when he forced it. Jackson had not noticed the lack of footprints. Jack rested his head on his staff, struggling to come up with something. Finally, he sighed.

"I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

Jackson wasn't entirely sure of what to do next. He asked Jack to walk with him back to the village. The boy only hesitantly complied. Jackson wanted to know more, but he was worried someone would send a search party for him, thinking maybe perhaps he had fallen in the pond again. They did take him for a fool, so it wasn't entirely implausible they would assume such.

He wasn't so foolish to leave Jack Frost alone once more. Assuming he was real (which Jackson was fairly certain at this point that he  _was_ ), he didn't want the boy to get hurt by him again. It was clear how very alone he felt. How he craved companionship, though he dare not ask for it. Jackson was curious about him. And Jack was curious about Jackson. Maybe getting to understand this spirit would bring no harm.

"So," Jackson adjusted the pack slung over his shoulder, "Who is he? The other guy that talked to you and left you. I mean."

Jack sighed and looked upwards. "The moon."

Jackson furrowed his brow. "The moon?"

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "He… he pulled me from the darkness and told me my name. And that was it." Jack shrugged. "He hasn't said a word since, no matter how much I ask."

The moon… the moon was sentient? Jackson was reeling. He had heard fairy tales of a man on the moon and would strain to see a face every once in a while. His sister saw it. She said she could see him smile clearly. But Jackson had trouble seeing what she saw. Maybe there was more to it.

"The moon… is there a man there, do you know? Like… like the stories you tell children at night. About the Man in the Moon." Jackson asked Jack.

Jack furrowed his brows. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just know… it was the moon that spoke to me. Maybe there's a man there. I think… I think he created me. But… I can't be certain." Jack thoughtfully drummed his fingers against the wood of his staff. "What are these stories? About the Man on the Moon?"

"Just nursery rhymes." Jackson shrugged. "You've heard one of them right? You know… um… Mother Goose and such." Jack's expression told Jackson he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Jackson took a deep breath and recited the poem.

"The man in the moon came down too soon,  
and asked his way to Norwich,  
They sent him south and he burnt his mouth  
By eating cold pease-porridge."

Jack tried to make sense of the story. Jackson couldn't help but smile when he noticed how baffled he was. "It's not supposed to make sense," Jackson spared him. "Don't worry about it."

"There are a lot of stories the taller ones tell the smaller ones that I don't understand," Jack scratched his head. "One about Jack and Jill fetching water from a well and a cow jumping over the moon or a man that fell from a wall that they could not repair. Did you fall and break your crown at some point?"

Jackson laughed. "No, no. My parents thought they were being clever when they named me Jackson and her Jillian. We're just called Jack and Jill because we prefer it that way. And because it's like the rhyme." Jackson pulled a branch as he passed by, letting it swing out behind him with a _thwak!_  Something Jack had said seemed strange… "Taller ones and smaller ones? Do you mean adults and children?"

Jack shrugged. "There are people that are taller and some that are smaller."

"Yes, then adults and children." Jackson confirmed. "Adults are usually taller than children."

"And the ones that are in the middle?" Jack asked. "What are they called?"

"Young adults. Teenagers." Jackson frowned. Was this guy born a few days ago or what? He was so clueless about everything.

"I like the children better," Jack commented. "They like to play. They're fun, even if they can't see me. Except when they're in the one building with the tall—adult in front of a black wall that shows them how to count and read."

"The school." Jackson informed him.

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "They don't play, but they still want to learn. They have a great interest in it. And you," Jack met Jackson's gaze. "The small one called Jill teaches you sometimes, right? You want to learn."

Jackson stopped. "How do you know?"

"I…um…" Jack rubbed his nose bashfully, "I've watched you two… mostly her. But after we met, you, too."

"You  _watched_ us?"

"I'm curious." Jack confessed. "And I like her a lot. Even if she doesn't see me. She was always so… sad or worried. I wanted to cheer her up. So, I did my best. And then she would smile and I'd get the best feeling in the world. She was inside a lot, tending to someone… you, right? You were always… sleeping. And there was a woman that told her to go play. But she didn't want to leave your side. The other children wanted to play with her but… she seemed like she didn't want to. I had to get her to play with them. So, I'd send some snowflakes her way or throw a snowball at her and she'd light up and play!"

"Why Jill, though?" Jackson asked.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know a lot of things, do you?" Jackson snickered and started walking once more. He wasn't concerned about Jack watching his younger sister for some reason. He felt like he could trust the boy. He wouldn't hurt her. Not that he really  _could,_ since he could not touch her. But the boy really did seem harmless. He was just  _curious._  "It's like you were born yesterday."

Jack frowned. "Twenty moons."

Jackson rose an eyebrow. "Twenty moons?"

Jack nodded. "I have seen the moon twenty times and the sun twenty times. Tonight will be twenty one moons."

Twenty… What? Jack was less than a month old? But… He looked about the same age as Jackson. Then again, the boy was quite an anomaly. White hair, freezes things, invisible and intangible to everyone. He claimed the moon might have made him. Twenty nights ago.

"So… you are a newborn, huh?" Jackson ruffled the hair on the back of his head. "No wonder you don't know anything."

And Jackson thought he was clueless. Yes, he was certainly uneducated. But Jack was… Jack knew less than a child. He  _was_  a child, more-so than even Jackson was.

Jackson stopped right at the edge of the village. He could not walk in while speaking with an invisible stranger and it seemed Jack was hesitant to enter. Jackson eyes the white haired boy out of the corner of is eye. He was real. He had to be. There was no way he was just a figment of Jackson's imagination. Right? Then again, the one thing Jackson prided himself in was his imagination and creativity. He was quick to make a story to tell the children and it was so easy to make new games to play.

As strange as it was, Jack Frost had to be real. Jackson knew it. And he wanted to learn more. He did not want to return home. He wanted to sit and talk with Jack and find out more about him. Could he do anything else besides freeze berries and the ground? How did he do it? Magic? Were there others like him?

"I'll come back tomorrow," Jackson promised Jack. The boy opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. His expression read doubt and hurt. He was afraid Jackson would leave him alone again. Jackson held out a pinky. "I swear."

Jack considered the digit before taking it with his own. Jackson's finger squeezed the cold one tightly and the brunette gave him a warm smile. They could learn a lot from each other. He hoped they could be friends. Maybe Jackson could help him. Maybe something Jackson could do would help him be seen by others. Once they had determined  _why_  Jack was invisible.

"Bye, Jack." Jackson smiled at the other and they parted ways. At home, Jackson was scolded for taking so long. His mother was going to send his father out to search had he not come back by sunset. Jackson grumbled and emptied the contents of his bag on the table.

When Jill made an attempt to eat one of the berries (he had to agree with her that they did look delicious), he stopped her and explained they were dangerous and not for eating. He hoped his mother did not plan to make food with them. She laughed and called him silly. No, no, they were for decoration. His mother was going to weave them together and his father would sell them in wreaths when he went into town next week.

That night, he spent pondering about Jack Frost. His sister lay in the bed beside him, curled up and dreaming. What had he been so afraid of the first time they met? Jack was harmless. Yes, strange. But completely harmless. He made no attempts to harm anyone, even when he showed anger towards Jackson for leaving him alone.

Jackson looked outside of his window from his place on his bed. The moon was not visible from where he was. The moon. Perhaps… it was strange, but perhaps the moon was actually a deity. If the moon created Jack Frost and spoke to him, what else had the moon created? Perhaps their world? Their way of life? Just what role did the moon have in this world? Should he make offerings?

No. Jackson was never one to participate in religious rituals. He believed in the morals of the Church, but could not find himself believing everything like God or Jesus Christ. So why should he start worshiping some pagan idea that the moon was a god? No, Jackson was better off simply pretending to believe in his family's faith.

Jack Frost. Jackson could not shake the boy from his mind. Not for a second. Why did he look so familiar? Why was he drawn to him? Perhaps he was just attracted to the mystery that came with the other. The… whatever it was that was Jack Frost. Something Jackson had never seen nor experienced.

The next morning, Jackson was quick to finish his morning chores. He wanted some time between the chores and entertaining the children after school to visit Jack. He kissed Jill on the crown and quickly darted off towards the pond, not letting her know what he was up to.

As he walked the familiar path, he took the time to try and come up with new questions to ask Jack Frost. The dirt was frozen solid and the air today was quite frigid. His hands hurt with the cold. He blew into them to try and warm them up, but it did little to help. Damn! It was freezing.

His mother had complained about the harsh winter. How it would snow suddenly. They had three blizzards in a fortnight. Food had been made scarce and four people had died of illness. Three of the elderly and one of the adults. Death was much too common, but it never ceased to tug at Jackson's heart strings or make his eyes sting. Why had he survived his ordeals, but not the mother of six? He had nothing to offer and her family had lost everything. It made him feel guilty.

And it wasn't just her death. Every death in the village brought somberness and heartbreak. No matter how often it was. It was because they were so small and so tight-knit. Jackson could compare themselves to the Native American tribes.

At the pond clearing, Jackson scanned his surroundings to look for the boy. Not a sight of him. Then again, he could so easily blend into these surroundings. The whites and browns camouflaged him so easily into the woods and snow.

"Jack?" Jackson called, stepping into the clearing.

"Just a second."

The voice did not come from his left or right. It did not come from behind or before him. No. It came from  _up_. Jackson slowly followed the voice with his eyes and his mouth dropped. He really should not have been as surprised as he was. He should have expected something like this. But he wasn't. And he was left to stand in shock at the sight before him.

Jack Frost was hovering in the air. Wind gusted around him, tousling his short white spikes. He seemed to be struggling for control. Power.  _Something_. He muttered, a bit frustrated and was tossed up. Crying out, he ordered to be put down.

Well, he was put down. Or rather, dropped straight onto the ice. He was far from graceful in his landing and Jackson heard a considerable crack in the spot Jack had landed. Jackson prayed it was a bone and not the ice. He did not want to have to dive into the icy waters to try and save this boy.

Jack easily stood up, brushed himself off, and strode over to Jackson as if nothing happened.

"I was practicing. Sorry." Jack explained, slinging his staff over his shoulder.

"Practicing  _what_?" Jackson asked. "And what cracked?! Are you okay?!"

Jack looked back at the pond. "Oh, the ice broke. And—"

"And you didn't fall through?!"

Jack furrowed his brows. "Why would I fall through? It freezes right back up."

Jackson could not say a word. He was in complete and utter shock. He did not know where to begin. Everything he had prepared to ask was suddenly gone with the winds that carried Jack.

"And I was practicing flying," Jack looked up in the air he was previously. "I didn't think you'd actually come back. They're sad we can't play."

"They?"

"The winds." Jack scratched the back of his neck. "They call it playing. They carry me. Most of the time. I can fly a little on my own. Not very high. I need the winds to take me up further, but once I'm there, I can stay up myself." Jack leapt into the air as if to show what he meant. He hovered and circled Jackson, landing beside him.

"You can fly." Jackson said stupidly.

"Yeah."

"You can  _fly_." Jackson repeated.

"You can't?" Jack's eyebrows rose in surprise.

" _No one_  can fly, Jack."

"So, you've never flown?"

"No!"

He really was a spirit of some kind. One that controlled the winds or… rather, it seemed they worked together. The wind was rather playful. It danced around Jack and Jackson and Jackson almost strained to hear words, as if it could talk. Jack closed his eyes, a serene smile playing on his lips. He nodded. "You're right. Everyone should be able to fly."

"I didn't say anything." Jackson frowned.

"You didn't hear them?" Jack looked around as a gust circled his head. "Oh. They can't hear you. That's a shame…" He grinned. "But I can! And I promise we'll have more fun later, okay?" Jack's smile faded a bit as he listened intently. "You'll do that? Really?" He nodded. "Okay."

It was so strange, watching Jack talk to himself. Jackson wondered if that was how he appeared when he spoke to the boy. He would not like it if anyone had walked in on him during a discussion with Jack. It wasn't at all what Jackson planned on happening, but if someone who could not see Jack questioned Jackson why he was talking to no one, Jackson would have not a clue on where to start.

"Here." Jack held out a hand for Jackson. "They said they'll carry you, as long as you're with me."

"What?" Jackson blinked, unable to understand what Jack was proposing.

"Fly with me." Jack grinned, shaking his hand for Jackson to take. "The winds agreed they're carry you, but only if I have you. Take my hand."

 _Flying_. Jackson was going to fly. All he had to do was take Jack Frost by the hand. That was all he had to do. Jackson wasn't so sure this was a good idea. He was sure he would plumet to his long overdue death. But… it sounded like  _fun_. The winds thought of it as  _playing_. And Jack was grinning so brightly. The temptation was far too much for Jackson to resist.

He took Jack's hand.

It was the most interesting sensation. Jackson's stomach bottomed out as they  _shot_  into the air. Jack's frozen hand gripped his own tightly. Winds whipped around them, pulling them up—up—up until Jackson could have sworn he could touch the clouds. Jackson was weightless. He was held up with nothing but air currents and a hand.

Jack laughed and looked towards Jackson beside him. Jackson wasn't quite sure how to feel, looking down at the forest and the frozen pond and his little village just a ways away. He was terrified he would fall. His heart beat in his ears drowned out the whistle of the winds. The hand holding his squeezed his assuringly. He was okay. He was alright.

Jack would not let him fall. He trusted him.

… Jackson trusted him. He had put his trust into this stranger he barely knew anything about. He trusted him without even considering what that meant. All he knew was that it was okay. He was safe. Jack would protect him.

Jackson felt a smile cross his face. He let out a loud whoop and heard it echo across the valley. Jack and Jackson's laughter filled the air as Jack let them drop. Jackson's heart leapt to his throat at the feeling. Oh! Ugh. Jackson wasn't sure if he liked the feeling of dropping.

Jack listened. He nodded and pulled Jackson will him into a loop and flew towards the village. No. Where were they going?

"Wait!" Jackson yelled. "No, stop!" Jack stopped and looked to him curiously. Jackson shook his head. "I can't be seen flying. Let's just… stay around the pond, okay?"

Jack looked around at the passing winds before nodding. They flipped over and shot back towards the pond. It would be weird to see Jackson flying over the village. They would question and Jackson did not want to go through the trouble of trying to explain this. No, he might be accused of witchcraft or something of the sort. It would be much better to lie low.

The flight was exhilarating. And the winds were tricksters. They pulled tricks, making Jackson think they were pulling him away from Jack or flipping his cloak over his head. They twisted the boys and dropped them and Jack clearly had very little control over them. He didn't seem to mind, though. He would laugh and blow snowflakes into the winds and Jackson could see exactly which winds went where.

After a while, Jackson felt himself shivering. It was cold up here. The winds were chilled and he felt like ice. He wanted to get by the fire. Jack set them on the ice and as they skated to a stop, his staff grazed the top and spread fern-like frost patterns. Jackson didn't let go of Jack's hand. He instead pulled the boy towards the village, urging him to follow him.

Jackson and Jack chuckled, breathless, as they ran to the village and stood by the center fire. Jackson wasn't quite thinking. He just knew he wanted to get warm, but did not want to yet leave Jack Frost. Today had been the most fun he ever had and that was saying something. Flying! Jackson never imagined in his life he'd ever fly.

He had to thank Jack somehow. What could he do, though? He watched Jack stepping closer to the fire. He released Jackson's hand and somehow, although Jack's hand felt like ice, it left him feeling cold. Jack held his hand hesitantly towards the flames, as if to test if they would burn.

Jackson was curious, but at the same time did not want to risk that they might actually… perhaps  _melt_ Jack. Jackson glanced around the clearing. The villagers were busy with their own business. They paid Jackson no mind, which was how it usually panned out. They were too involved in their work or they were inside, where it was warm.

Jackson took Jack's hand and pulled it away from the fire. "You'll hurt yourself."

It was like talking to a child. Jackson wasn't sure whether or not the fire would melt or burn Jack, but he did not want either to happen. Something told him the boy had not felt pain, other than the pain of loneliness. Jackson decided he would do what he could to protect him from that pain from now on. As the only one that could see him, it was his duty.

Just as Jack would protect Jackson from falling, Jackson would protect Jack from the cold ache of isolation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite sure how I'm doing with writing this! I haven't written slash in a while. I've been writing a LOT of Jack x Older!Sophie. It was an accidental OTP. Anyway, this is probably going to take a while to get to any romance. Build friendship than romance. Plus, there's going to be some confusion when they realize they look the same. I imagine the colony doesn't have many mirrors or chances to see a proper reflection. I feel like Jackson may not have seen his own reflection in quite some time. Since Jack is clearly not a vain person. In sure he cares less about how he looks and more about entertaining children.
> 
> There's still some holes that will be filled, I promise!


	4. Chapter 4

Jackson spent the next several weeks sneaking out whenever he could to the pond. Once or twice he was followed curiously by children or an adult. But Jack was able to see that they were there. He let Jackson know that he was being followed and watched and Jackson would find an excuse for his sneak away. Whether it was hunting or chopping wood or simply exploring a new footpath.

Jack had become his best friend. Which was strange because Jackson's best friend used to be Jonathan until Eliza was ready for marriage. Jackson was her first choice, between the two of them. But Jackson vehemently declined the offer, going so far as to run away and get lost in the forest. Neither had spoken much to him since. Only when they had to.

Jack would follow Jackson into the village every once in a while. He was watch Jackson go about his daily duties and question why he did them and what their purpose was when Jackson was able to answer them. He followed Jackson and his family to their little place of worship once. He listened intently to the pastor and his teachings. Jackson had seen the image of confusion cross his face when he began to recite from the bible in Latin. Jackson knew just about as much of what he was saying as Jack did. Jackson could pick up a few words here and there.

Jack did question Jackson about religion. Jackson did his best to answer him, and tried to stay objective. Especially when he was questioning it as it was. The moon seemed to have been more of a creator-figure than the God he was encouraged to believe in. Jackson did not want to confuse Jack.

The two of them played with children often. Of course, Jack was unseen. But that never stopped him. Jackson tried to include him as best he could without directly interacting with him. He encouraged Jack to throw a snowball or slick a hill for them to sled down. But Jack would do more than that. He would take them, slicking a path and using the winds to push the sled, and travel across the village, occasionally leading them into a snow bank or a tree by accident.

Jackson had learned a lot about Jack. Not only could he create ice and frost, but he could make it snow. He was the one that made those blizzards while Jackson was out. The first time, it was a test. He was testing his limits and his power and when he saw the effect on the village, he regretted it. He promised himself he would create no more blizzards. The other two were completely unintentional. The snow fall was a warning of his mood. Jack had been particularly upset when he created the blizzards. He was upset when the moon refused to speak to him. And he was upset when he accidentally hurt a child during his games.

It hadn't snowed since Jackson had been awake. Not heavily, anyway. Light flurries hear and there, but nothing the villagers anticipated. They said that Mother Nature was being kind to them after the hardships they had been through and somehow it got Jackson wondering if Mother Nature was real. Jack said the moon was. Perhaps he was like the Man on the Moon. So, if the Man on the Moon was real, who was to say that Mother Nature wasn't?

Jackson could not help but imagine her as a cruel woman. Her creations that killed people and her weather that starved them. She was probably out to kill them all. Yes, this must have been it. Tornados, hurricanes, hail storms, lightning. Blizzards must have been her responsibility, too. Before Jack, there had been snow and blizzards, so it couldn't just be him. It was Mother Nature.

Jack felt horribly guilty for the pain he had caused the villagers. When he had voiced these worries and emotions to Jackson, it began to flurry and something glistened in the corner of the winter spirit's (this is what Jackson had decided to call what this boy was) eyes. Jack rubbed it away and a drop of ice fell to the ground. Jackson would have put a hand on his shoulder for comfort, but the just inches from Jack's body, Jackson felt the temperature drop below freezing. It was cool. Too cold. So cold, it burned. All of Jack just seemed to freeze with his shuddering shoulders and his almost-tears of ice.

Jack didn't mean to hurt anybody. He resented what he could do. But perhaps with a little practice, he could try and not hurt a single soul. This was what he resolved. And Jackson promised to be there to offer any assistance he could. What could he do, though? He didn't have any powers. He couldn't tell Jack how to control his own.

For now, Jack's power over snow seemed to be in check. As long as his emotions did not range too powerful, there should not be another blizzard. It was difficult for the winter spirit. The fact that only Jackson could see him and the moon refused to acknowledge him wore on him. Jackson did his best to keep Jack's spirits up and it did seem to be working.

One day, Jackson's father came back from town with one of the community horses and the covered carriage. After Jackson took the horse to the stable, he was asked to help unload the cargo. And… man, did James return with  _some_  cargo.

As James pulled away the tarp, Jackson's jaw dropped. Jack leapt into the carriage and inspected the item curiously.

"What's this?" Jack asked Jackson.

Jackson turned to his father. "A grandfather clock?"

"Eeyup." he nodded, proud of his acquirement.

"Father, you can't be serious." Jackson climbed in pulled a bit of the cloth away that protected it. "How did you even afford it?"

"I traded it. For your great-grandfather's watch for it."

"Why would you trade a mobile clock for a stationary one?" Jackson asked incredulously.

"It was broken anyway," James shrugged. "Now, help me get it inside."

Jackson shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced to Jack and muttered, "My father is crazy," as he shoved the oversized clock out of the carriage. His father eased it to the ground.

"What was that?" Jamie asked.

"Nothing, just said that Mother is going to kill you." Jackson chuckled and leaned his arm on the top of the clock.

"She's been asking for one of these for years." James pat the wood on the side.

"If you say so."

Jackson carefully pushed the top down for his father to carry. After he had a decent hold on it, Jackson jumped out of the carriage and struggled to lift the bottom. Damn, it was heavy! Jack moved with them towards the house. He opened the door for them, which James did not question. He possibly assumed Jackson had left it open. Jackson struggled to keep his end lifted. He was certainly  _not_  a strong man like his father was. Thin arms and shoulders did not do well with heavy lifting. Jack had set his staff aside and taken up the end with Jackson until James ordered them to set it beside the fire. Oh, man.

James struggled to push up the top. Jackson, being a little on the smaller size in build, tried to pull it from the top. Jack winced as he phased through James to push with him. When the clock was standing upright and tall, Jack danced away from James, shaking himself out. That did not seem like a pleasant experience. Having another stand through you.

"See?" James wiped his brow. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Jackson let out a chuckle and gave Jack a knowing smile. The spirit collected his staff before stepping in front of the clock to examine it closely. James untied the cloth wrapped around it to protect the glass. It fell away to reveal a handsome surface with shining weights and a pendulum. James pulled out a key from his pocket and wound the clock. The weights rose and the clock began to tick.

"Now, what time is it, Father?" Jackson smirked.

"Hm…" James scratched his chin. "I will return shortly. Keep your mother out until I get back."

James left the cabin, most likely to procure a pocket watch to set the correct time. Jackson laughed and turned to Jack. "I swear, he doesn't think anything through."

"And you do?" Jack snickered.

"Shut up," Jackson play punched Jack's arm and turned to the clock, putting his hands on his hips. "Well… it does look nice."

"What does it do?" Jack asked, leaning against his staff.

"It tells the time." Jackson explained.

"What's time?"

Jackson was taken aback. He was used to Jack's constant questioning. How little he knew was astonishing. But this was something he expected everyone to know. Never had anyone needed to explain  _time_  to someone. Where would he begin? Jackson had to sit down for this one. He pulled up the chair beside the fire and sat to ponder.

What was time?

"Time is… the beginning and ending of all things." Jackson said thoughtfully. "It counts down the years, months, days, hours, minutes,  _seconds_  until the end or the birth. There are sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, twenty-four hours in a day, three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. Time passes and everything changes. Everything can change in but a moment. Nothing will be the same and nothing has ever been what it was."

"I still don't… I don't understand." Jack furrowed his brows.

Jackson sighed. "From the night you were born to now, time has passed. How many moons again?"

"Fifty-four." Jack replied.

"Right. Fifty-four moons. That's fifty-four days. A month and a half, give or take, right?" Jackson was having trouble forming the right way to explain this. He looked around for assistance. Right. The clock. Jackson stood up and pointed to the second hand that continuously moved. "See this? It's counting the time. These are seconds."

Jack inspected the face of the clock and frowned. "Okay…"

He still didn't seem to get it. Jackson felt a bit frustrated. How could he explain this to Jack? Maybe he didn't have to. "You know… I think you'll get it." Jackson nodded. "Eventually. You'll understand. Everyone does."

"Why can't you tell me?" Jack asked, tapping the glass in front of the face. Fern-like frost spread from his touch across the surface. He quickly retreated as if he had broken it.

"It's too complicated." Jackson ruffled the back of his head. "You'll get it though, I promise."

His father has returned with Mr. Hanson's pocket watch. Jackson and Jack watch as he sets it and steps back to admire his work. An old, broken pocket watch for this sparkling grandfather clock. Something about that trade seemed off to Jackson, but he let it go. It was for his father to realize, not for him.

Hanson greeted Jackson and the boy nodded in return. When asked if he had found himself a wife yet, Jackson only laughed and reminded him he was still just a child. Hanson frowned, but was very familiar with Jackson's reluctance to marry. Jackson was sure he'd be a great father. A great provider, though? No. He would not be able to take care of his family. He would not be able to put food on their table and hunt. He could barely chop down a tree or hunt a rabbit, let alone build a cabin and feed a family hearty dear.

And Jackson could not even think about who he would like as a bride. No, no way. Nope. He'd sooner marry a sheep than an adult woman. He could do without the constant nagging (he got that enough from his mother) and the idea of intimacy scared the living daylights out of him.

He would just like to stick to playing with Jack and the children, thanks.

As James and Hanson fell into conversation, Jackson slipped out with Jack. Jackson and Jack pulled the wagon into it's usual place and relaxed in the stables. Jack hung upside-down from the rafters as Jackson fed the horse a sugar cube to reward him for his long journey.

"What's a wife?" Jack asked. Jackson wondered if the blood was rushing to Jack's head as he hung like that, but evidently not. His face did not become red, nor did he seem strained.

"The woman you get married to." Jackson grumbled. Nope. Did not want to touch on this topic.

"Married?"

"Marriage. It's a commitment to love and cherish or something like that. It's pretty much just dooming you into being a man and providing food and shelter for your family." Jackson rolled his eyes. "You take care of everything. It's exhausting. I don't know why people do it."

"Doesn't sound like you'll ever get married." Jack commented lightly.

Jackson rubbed his eye. "Nope. I'm thinking about just becoming a priest. Then I could just have an excuse not to." Plus, no work. He'd have more time for play. All he'd have to do was give a sermon every once in a while, forgive a few confessions, help the needy. Sounded like a good deal. Except…

"But you told me you weren't a man of God."

"I'm not." Jackson shrugged. "Pretty much the only person in this land that isn't. Except for the Natives. Hey! Maybe I can join them!" Jackson punched his palm. "Oh, wait… No, that would probably require more work."

Jack flipped over and landed gracefully on his toes. How did he do that? Seriously. He must have been cheating gravity or something. Jack's usual mischievous smile seemed to… dullen. Perhaps it was a bit forced.

"Or we could trade places," Jack shrugged.

Oh. Jackson felt quite insensitive now. His face burned and he looked to the ground. He hadn't thought that maybe Jack would like to be in his position. Jack wouldn't mind learning how to be an adult, grow up, maybe get married and have his own family.

"Jack, I—"

"I didn't mean it like that. It'd be nice to be seen," Jack exhaled and dragged the staff along the rafters to create icicles. "Just once."

Jackson frowned. He wondered for a moment if Jack even liked to hang around him. What if he stuck by only because Jackson was the only one that could see him? What if another had come around who could see him? Would he just leave Jackson for them?

Why did Jackson feel so insecure about this? They were friends. Sort of. Kind of. They'd only known each other for about a month. While Jackson really enjoyed Jack's company, it was sometimes hard to tell if the feeling was mutual. Jackson knew he said the wrong things sometimes. He wasn't perfect. But he wanted to be there for Jack.

He thought of Jack as his best friend. Did Jack feel the same?

"I see you," Jackson said in a low voice, averting his gaze from the other.

He wasn't sure if Jack heard him. The spirit crossed over to the stable door and leaned on the frame to watch the children get let out of the school house. Laughter and screams rang thought the village. As Jackson moved closer to him, he could see the look of longing in Jack's eyes.

No… it would be better if the children could see him. Not Jackson. He deserved them. Not this lazy, good-for-nothing heathen. They could teach Jack so much more than Jackson could. He could grow with them, since he was nothing more than a child himself.

Jack lowered his grip on his staff and frowned. "I'm going to go home…" he said slowly. "I'll see you later, Jack."

"Yeah…" Jackson took his place as the spirit took flight. He was getting a lot better at this flying thing. Jackson watched him until he was lost to the forest.

He was sure Jack would have done anything to be in Jackson's place. Jackson had the world while Jack had nothing. At least, that's how it seemed. He felt guilty for squandering everything he had. He hadn't realized how Jack might have felt about everything. Man, Jackson was a jerk.

Jack was probably mad at him. He was sure he was. Maybe Jack didn't want to see him. He had left fairly quickly. Jackson decided to give him some time to himself. Some distance would probably be for the best. For the next three days, Jackson stayed away from the pond. He did not go to visit Jack. And Jack was not seen near the village. Maybe Jack  _was_  really mad at him.

The time apart from Jack gave Jackson a gnawing feeling. He didn't like being away from the winter spirit. It was like being away from Jill. He missed him, even if it had only been a few days. He felt hollow and a piece of him was missing.

Hold on. This was… this was familiar. It was like the time after he became well again. The missing invisible limb. No, no. This was different than being away from Jill. It was a part of him that was missing. It left him feeling extremely uncomfortable and horribly lonely. Jill had noticed and tried to pry from him what his problem was. But how could he explain this to her? There was no explaining this. She wouldn't understand.

The third night, Jackson stepped out into the frigid cold. It had began to snow, the flakes piling up on top of each other. They reached past his ankle. Jackson rounded to the side of the cabin to gather firewood, but stopped when he was sure he was out of sight. He looked up at the sky, maybe hoping to see the Jack flying overhead, whooping as the winds carried him. Nothing. Just blotted out stars and heavy clouds and snowflakes.

He was frustrated. He pressed his forehead against the wood of the cabin and slammed his fist into the side. Don't go to him, Jackson. He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't want you. He wants the children, not you.

"Jack?"

Jackson looked up. Jack leaned over the roof, looking down at him. Jackson jumped and scrambled back to get a better look at him. The boy hopped off the roof and landed silently before Jackson. Jackson looked down, worrying on his thumb. Oh boy. He didn't think of what would happen when they saw each other again. He didn't know what to say. How to act. He couldn't even bring himself to look at him. He felt ashamed.

"Jack… I haven't seen you in a while." Jack's voice was low. Jackson felt his eyes stinging.

"I… sorry…" Jackson didn't know where to start.

"Are you mad?"

Jackson's head shot up. Jack looked so uncertain. So worried. "God, no!" Jackson shook his head. "No, I'm not mad. I promise, Jack."

"But… you haven't come to the pond," he seemed to panic, his voice raising an octave. "You didn't come to see me. What did I do? I'm sorry, Jack. I am. Please, don't leave me." Jack stepped closer to Jackson. The snow started falling heavier, the winds picked up.

"I won't leave you." Jackson quickly put his hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry. You didn't do anything. I promise. I thought… I thought you were mad at me."

Jack vehemently shook his head. "No! Why would I be mad at you? You're all I have." Jackson was taken aback when Jack wrapped his arms tightly around him. "I don't want to lose you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry… don't leave me. Please."

Jack was so cold. He caused Jackson to shiver, but he did not pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the other and held him close. He felt whole again. The missing limb had been returned. What did that say about what Jack meant to him? Jackson did not bother to linger on the sentiment. He needed to calm Jack down and warm him up.

"I'm sorry," Jackson whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."


	5. Chapter 5

Jack met Jackson in the well clearing as Jackson and Jill went about their morning chores. Jackson gave the spirit a nod of acknowledgement. Jack skipped over to Jackson and Jill and danced around them as they worked. Jackson waved him off, holding back laughter. Jack did not, as he bothered Jackson easily. He stayed a distance from Jill, not wanting to pass through her. But he still showered her with snow and snowflakes that had a strange blue glow to them. She laughed and threw snow at other children and Jackson and Jack fooled around with them until an adult called them to attention.

Once the chores were done, Jackson took Jill's hand as he walked with her to the school house. The siblings sang a silly song they had made up during cold nights inside. Jack listened as he walked with them, frost spreading over the footpath with each of his steps. Jackson stopped with Jill in front of the and crouched to her level.

"Remember everything you learn today," Jackson encouraged, putting a hand on her head. "You have to teach your dumb big brother when you get home."

She giggled. "Duh!"

"Good." Jackson leaned forward and kissed her brow.

"Jack?" Jackson stopped himself from standing up and adjusted himself, giving her his full attention. "Where do you go while I'm at school?"

She seemed genuinely curious. He couldn't tell her he went out to the pond and hung out with Jack. That he would go ice skating and flying and they would explore the forest together. That the two of them sat and taught the other what they knew. There was no way to explain Jack Frost to her. There was no way to make her see Jack to believe Jackson.

"I wander." he shrugged. "I find ways to entertain myself."

"Not near the pond, right?" Jill's eyes widened.

"Of course not! I don't want to fall through the ice again, right?" He felt terrible for lying to her. She was his precious little sister and he adored her more than anything. Lying so blatantly to her face hurt. He had to force a smile to assure her.

"Good."

"Now, go get an education and better yourself!" He stood up and turned her around to push her gently towards the door. "Stay warm, give Michael hell, say hello to Lucy for me. I love you."

"Love you, too!" Jill laughed as she ran into the school house.

Jackson turned towards the forest path and strode casually away from the schoolhouse. He glanced back at Jill who looked at him through the window. He raised his hand and waved before darting into the trees with Jack at his heels. Jackson turned back to grin at Jack and ran ahead, provoking a chase. He heard Jack behind him laughing; his were footsteps light which always confused Jackson and made him unsure about the distance between them.

As they reached the pond, Jackson was tackled into the snow. Jack flipped over him, yelping out in shock at the unexpected leverage Jackson had gotten with the fall. The two of them laid in the snow, laughing and snickering and Jackson vying for air.

"Jack?"

"Hm?"

"What you said to Jill back there…" Jackson turned to Jack who was biting his lip uncertainly. "You're always at the pond."

Jackson flipped onto his stomach to look at Jack better. Propping himself on his elbow, he dug his fingers into the snow to tear at the grass beneath. "I lied to her." Jackson admitted, his eyes turning downwards.

"Lied?"

Jackson frowned, taking in Jack curiously. "You don't know what a lie is?" Jack shook his head, mimicking Jackson's pose so they were eye to eye. Sometimes, Jackson wondered how Jack was even able to talk. He knew so little, how was he even able to communicate? "Hm… a lie is… it's the opposite of the truth. A truth is 'I am Jackson Overland.' A lie would be 'I am a purple elephant.'"

"So, it's like playing pretend?" Jack quirked his head.

"No, no." Jackson shook his head. "A lie is what you tell someone to make them think it's the truth. Playing pretend, you know someone isn't a purple elephant. You act like they are. When I tell someone I'm a purple elephant and make them believe I am, that's a lie."

Jack considered Jackson, the corners of his mouth turned downwards. Jackson wondered what he was thinking. The spirit pushed himself to his feet and paced a bit. Jackson watched him as he processed this new information. When something Jackson told Jack seemed strange or just not right, he would take a moment to consider it.

"Is lying good?" Jack asked, taking a moment to pause.

"No," Jackson replied. "Lying is never good. Sometimes, it's a necessity." Jackson twisted himself in the snow and sat in a comfortable position. "I lied to Jill because I'm not sure how to explain what I really do while she's at school. I don't help my parents, clearly. I go off with you."

"And she can't see me."

"Right." Jackson nodded. "I lied because she would never believe that I hang out with a boy she can't see. I also don't want her to worry." Jackson stood up and stepped onto the ice on the pond. "I told you I almost died here, right?" Jackson carefully stepped further onto the ice. His shoes slipped and Jackson had to catch himself. "She's scared if I even go near the pond, I'll fall through the ice again and she'll actually lose me. I don't want her to have to worry, you know?"

Jackson took one more step and the ice cracked beneath his feet. Oh. He miscalculated the thickness of the ice once more. Then again, spring was coming and the air was getting warmer. He was sure the ice was melting. Strange, though. He wasn't scared. He grinned at Jack before glancing down to the ice.

"This is what happened." Jackson hopped and the ice crackled. "I fell through and my sister saved me." Jack cautiously stepped onto the ice. As he moved closer to Jackson, the brunette watched as the ice solidified under his feet. He wasn't scared of falling through. Not if Jack was around. He knew he was safe.

"So, that's why I lied to Jill. Because I didn't want her to worry." Jackson concluded. "Especially when she doesn't have to because I'm with you." Jackson smiled warmly at Jack. "And you'll never let me fall."

Jack linked his arm with Jackson. "Of course I wouldn't." he said. "Jack… have you ever lied to me?"

Jackson thought for a moment, going over everything they had discussed. He could not recall one moment when he was forced to lie to him. Jackson was always truthful with the spirit. He felt like he needed to be and somehow he felt that even if he did lie, Jack would know he did. Jackson shook his head. "Nope. Not once."

The grin that spread across Jack's face caused Jackson's cheeks to burn. He wasn't sure why, but he was so glad that Jack was happy. The smile was perfect. Bright, shining teeth and pink cheeks. "You lie to your sister, but you don't lie to me." Jack laughed. "That makes me really happy for some reason."

Jackson looked down at the reflective ice. He couldn't find himself able to look Jack in the eye. "Not like I want to lie to her. Just… it's easier."

"It would be easy to lie to me, though." Jack reasoned. "I wouldn't have known you were lying, right? I would have thought it was the truth. Because you said it was."

That was why he couldn't find himself able to lie to the other. Jack would have believed it to the ends of the earth, even if he was told otherwise. Because Jackson was there for him and Jackson was his teacher. If Jackson lied, he wouldn't have been able to face the other. He knew if Jack ever found out about a lie, he would never be able to trust him. Jackson wanted Jack's trust.

"Right," Jackson grabbed Jack by the forearms and pulled him back to shore. "I won't ever lie to you."

"And I won't ever lie to you." Jack grinned.

Jackson laughed. He didn't think Jack was even capable of lying. He was too… innocent. Too childlike. Too honest. There was no capacity for deception. He trusted Jack would never find the need for dishonesty. Not when Jackson was the only one that could see him.

Now that that question was out of the way… "So, um, what's an elephant?"

The day was spent with Jackson doing his best to answer any question Jack threw at him. Jack took Jackson flying, an activity Jackson found way too enjoyable. Jack had learned how to properly control the winds. He was in full command, no longer even needing to shout orders to the gusts that carried them. Jackson clung to Jack's neck, as he was slung onto his back. The few from up high was always mesmerizing. Especially at night, when the lights in their village were brightest.

Jack leapt from treetop to treetop. Jack seemed to have no trouble carrying Jackson. They stood upon a tree just near the village and watched as the adults milled around, going about their work and business. Jackson could see his mother tending to the sheep that he thought were not let out often enough. His family were shepherds. They took care of goats and sheep and bartered their fur. They didn't own many. Somewhere between five and ten. It was enough to get by.

"Look!" Jackson leaned forward, causing Jack to go off tilt. He caught them just before they fell forward and followed Jackson's gaze. The children were being let out.

Now it was time for fun.

Jack and Jackson ran back into the village. Jackson collected Jill in his arms and swung her around before turning to the other children and suggesting a new game Jack had come up with. They laughed and played and danced and told stories and when the sun was setting, the children were called inside. Jackson carried Jill on his shoulders, the two of them singing the song they made up. Jack walked beside them, grinning from the exhilaration of the fun.

Jack was glad to be able to participate in their games, with Jackson's help. Even if the children couldn't see them, Jackson made sure he had some part in their stories and fun. It seemed to be what Jack lived for: the thrill of the games. Jackson wondered how he could get by without being seen by anyone besides him. Jackson always begged for attention. Mostly the attention of the children. He had the attention of the adults, but not quite the attention he wanted.

During dinner, Jack leaned against the back of Jackson's chair as he sat on the floor. Jackson would pass him scraps now and again when no one was looking, a bit like one would pass to their dog. Jack didn't need to eat, Jackson found out. But he liked to taste things. Even if food wasn't a necessity for the other, it was a luxury. He was curious and Jackson did what he could to feed that curiosity.

At night, Jackson sat with Jill, wrapped in a heavy blanket by the fire. She taught him what she learned about that day during school. Jack sat on the mantle, looking down at them. He watched and absorbed Jill's lesson. When Jack had a question, Jackson asked for him. Jill would elaborate.

She yawned sleepily as the clock chimed nine. Jackson insisted it was time for her to sleep, but she still had more to teach him. They could continue tomorrow, he promised as he carried her into their room. Jill shivered as they left the fireplace. Jackson wrapped her more tightly in their blanket as he set her on the bed. He stroked her hair and sang her a lullaby and soon she was asleep. Jackson kissed her forehead as she snored softly.

"You did it again."

Jackson looked up to Jack from his place crouched beside the bed. "Did what again?"

"That thing. You put your lips on her face." He put his hand on his brow. "What is that?"

Jackson furrowed his brows in confusion. "You mean a kiss?"

"Is that what it is?" Jack asked.

Jackson yawned. Man, it was late. He was tired. A kiss was way too much to explain tonight. There were different kinds of kisses for different kinds of relationships and he honestly did not want to get into it at the moment. "I'll explain tomorrow, okay?" Jackson crossed over to the window to open it and let Jack out. "Too much information and I'm tired."

"Okay." Jack agreed timidly as he followed Jackson to the window. He looked outside of the open glass and back to Jackson. "Sleep well." Jack stopped beside Jackson. He considered the other carefully. Jackson was used to Jack's strange antics and shows of curiosity. It used to unnerve him. But he was used to it by now.

He yawned again. He rubbed his eye with his palm. Suddenly, a cold hand took him by the wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. Even colder, but very gentle lips pressed against his forehead. What? Jackson stood stock still, peering through his lashes to meet vibrant blue eyes. Jack smiled before silently taking off.

Jack just kissed him. Jackson's face burned. He should have explained a kiss. He should have explained they weren't supposed to kiss. Nope. He shouldn't have pushed it off until tomorrow. Jackson felt hot and this was so weird. Because, while he knew it was wrong, it didn't  _feel_  wrong.

… No way, this was wrong. Yep. They were both men. Adult(ish) men at that. Men don't kiss men, right? There were rules about kissing. Right? That's what he was told.

He had to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. Jack had no idea what a kiss was. Tomorrow, Jackson would explain it and Jack would understand and it would never happen again. … But… the feeling left behind with Jack's kiss. It was warmth. Acceptance. He actually felt like Jack cared for him. Like Jack really wished he would be well and that kiss assured Jackson of his intentions.

Jackson laid in bed, his hand pressed upon his brow and his eyes wide. Maybe he did want Jack to kiss him again. It wouldn't hurt, right? It wasn't like they were any less of a man just because they showed they cared, right? And if Jackson explained to Jack what a kiss entailed, would that change anything? What they had… Jackson never really thought about.

Whenever the idea cropped up, Jackson always pushed it away. What did Jack mean to him? He was a missing limb, only restored when they were together. When they were apart for too long, the aching would start and Jackson  _needed_  to be with Jack. He didn't now if it went both ways. He… he hoped it did. It wasn't just because of that reason that Jackson wanted to be with Jack. He loved being around him. He was fun. He understood Jackson's love of children and shared it. He understood Jackson didn't quite want to grow up and showed Jackson he didn't  _have_  to.

It had only been a few months, but they had grown close. Maybe  _too_  close.

No. Stop. Jackson, that's enough. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about him. He is  _all_  you think about anymore. You need to snap out of it. You need to think about Jill and your parents and stop focusing so much on this magical boy.

When had his thoughts started to become filled with this boy? He only now realized how bad it was. How could he let this happen? Was it because Jackson was the only one that could see him? Was it because he was such a strange entity? This was by far the last thing he expected to happen when he began to hang around the boy.

Jackson promised himself he would distance his thoughts from Jack. He had to. It was weird and strange and he didn't understand it. What could he do, though? How would he put his mind onto something else when he spent sunrise to sunset with Jack Frost? He didn't want to distance himself physically. But maybe… he had to.

No, Jackson told himself firmly. There would be no way he could stay away from Jack. He was happy with Jack. He was glad to be with the other. Maybe it was best just to… embrace ignorance. Yes. That was it. He would treat the idea the same way he treated the idea of taking a wife. He would ignore it and pass it off as nothing. He wouldn't acknowledge it. Ignorance was better. Yes, much better.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, a kiss?"

Jackson's face burned. He had hoped Jack would have forgotten his promise to explain what a kiss was, but he knew that was hoping for too much. Jack seemed to have a memory like no other. He remembered everything. What a child said in passing, a coughing fit Jackson had the other day, a tune Jill hummed absently. There wasn't a thing that got past the spirit and sometimes that wasn't exactly a good thing for Jackson. Like right now. Jackson didn't want to have this conversation. Nope, not one bit.

"A kiss is… a gesture of affection." Jackson started uncertainly. "You kiss your family and your lover or partner. By partner, I mean someone you are married to. You show them you care. It's… not normally passed between friends."

"But, I saw Annie and William…. William kissed her. Here." Jack pointed to his cheek. "They're friends, right? They're Smaller Ones. They are too young to be lovers, like what you described twelve moons ago."

Jackson wasn't quite sure how to explain that. "It was… it was probably a dare from the other boys." Jackson reasoned with difficulty. "Or because he likes her. He's too young to understand love, but that doesn't mean she doesn't get him flustered. It happens sometimes when you're young.

"I mean, Michael tried to steal a kiss from Jill. Luckily, she's not ready for any of that yet. She decked him, right in the jaw!" Jackson swung his arm, grinning. He was proud of Jill when she told him this story. "Boys like to tease the girls, you know? So a little boy will run around and try and kiss a girl on the cheek. But girls normally don't want any of that unless they like a boy, too. Girls are smart, Jack. They know they're too young for that kind of stuff and try and stay away from it. They know they have very little time to just be… children. Boys just all want to grow up and be like their fathers."

"But not you," Jack interjected.

"Nope!" Jackson shook his head. "And I tried teaching them to just enjoy their childhood, but sometimes, they don't listen to me."

"So… um…" Jack shifted his stance uncertainly. "I shouldn't have done that last night?"

"No," Jackson replied perhaps a bit too hastily. No. Wait. That wasn't what he wanted to say! Jack flinched at Jackson's tone. Oh no. Jackson didn't mean to sound like that. "Uh… it's just… you um… You only kiss people you love."

"Oh," Jack nodded as if he understood. His creased brow and frown told Jackson otherwise. "What's love?"

Jackson held his head. Okay. This was too much for him. His head ached and how the hell was he supposed to explain love? He gave up. Nope, he would not be able to explain this one to Jack. Jackson wasn't even sure what love meant, how could he define it? "You know what? I don't know, Jack. My head hurts."

Jackson felt a hand on his head. He glanced up to Jack who's eyes were gentle and smile understanding. He wrapped his cold arms around Jackson's shoulders and Jackson felt heat rise to his cheeks. Oh Lord, stop that. Why was he doing that?

"Sorry, Jack," Jack murmured. "You don't want to talk about it. I get it. We don't have to. Just tell me when something makes you uncomfortable, okay? We don't have to talk about it."

He never considered Jack would be fine if Jackson left anything unanswered. Jack was always questioning and Jackson wanted make sure the spirit was just as educated as he was. He wished he could offer more. He wished he could tell Jack everything but… When Jackson didn't quite understand a subject, it made it hard to explain anything. This particular subject was difficult. Jackson had never any interest in intimacy nor love. He didn't want to start thinking about it.

"Thanks…" Jackson snaked his arms around Jack's back. This was good. This was nice. He smiled into Jack's shoulder, inhaling his crisp scent. He smelt wonderful. Like fresh snow and clean winter air. It was strange. The boy wasn't as frigid as he usually was. Jack's touch was like ice but at the moment he… he felt as cold as a child that had been playing in the snow too long. He was (dare he think it?)  _warm_. His arms tightened around Jack, savoring the abnormal temperature his friend was.

Jack's fingers brushed through Jackson's hair. Jackson looked up and they met with matching grins. Pulling apart they ran onto the pond to skate. Jackson was renewed with the assurance that Jack would be fine if Jackson didn't disclose everything. Jackson and Jack were able to drop serious topics at the drop of a hat and bring smiles to the other. Jackson was happy for this relationship he had with Jack. He hoped it would never change. Not ever.

The next week, though. It brought something new that Jack Frost had never seen. Green buds sprouting through a very light dusting of snow. Wet flakes that were heavy as they melted before hitting the ground. The ice on the pond was so thin Jack could see the water beneath. Jackson didn't dare take a step on it. Jack could see the villagers doning lighter clothing. Jackson explained that this was called "spring."

Jackson explained to Jack that there were four seasons. Summer, autumn, winter, and spring. It wasn't always cold. It became warm and brisk and chilly and unbearably hot. That the ground wasn't always white and that most of the year it was green. Jackson explained the seasons and their purpose as best he could to Jack. He didn't understand the science behind it. He knew spring was growth. Summer was for crops. Autumn was time for harvest.

And Jack Frost knew winter.

"… Death."

"No," Jackson grabbed Jack's arms and looked him in the eye. "No, winter isn't death. Winter is sleep. Winter is a rest for the world. A much needed sleep to re-energize and work through the rest of the seasons."

So spring began. Jackson was terrified Jack might melt. Much to both of their relief, that wasn't the case. When the snow melted, Jack had become frustrated when he could not conjure any more. It would be mush or rain. Jack snapped at the winds when they giggled at him, telling him to try again in November.

As the air got warmer, Jack got colder. It made it increasingly more uncomfortable to so much as stand next to Jack. The biting cold that was coming from him was like laying in the snow for too long. It felt like frostbite. It was possibly because he was a being of winter and had to keep himself cold. But Jackson was sure that couldn't be it because when Jackson would smile at the other, suddenly he wasn't so cold.

Jackson pondered if this had anything to do with his emotions. Like when it started to snow when he was upset. Instead, he couldn't make it snow, so the cold would just build up… Was that that case? And if it was, what had Jack so upset?

When all the snow had melted and the flowers were beginning to bloom, his mother requested that everyone help clean out the cabin. Each room, they moved all of the furniture outside to clean it and knock all of the dust out of it. Spring cleaning, his mother called it. It was a yearly tradition. She would wash all of the sheets and Jack and James would scrub the floors and walls and windows.

They weren't even halfway done when Johanna called for lunch. Jackson and James set down the armoire from James and Johanna's room outside and Jackson leaned against the wood, exhausted. James, Jill, and Johanna went inside. Jackson told them he'd be in shortly. Jack had come to see what they were up to and he wanted to let him know there wouldn't be much time for games today.

As Jackson looked up, he stopped. The mirror. Jackson hadn't looked in a mirror for a good long time. He hadn't seen his own reflection besides distorted views in ice and the windows. He didn't quite remember what he looked like. Jack had come up behind him. Jackson only noticed because that only further stunned him.

"What's this?" Jack asked.

"A mirror." Jackson replied, his jaw growing slack. In the mirror, Jack stood beside him. He could only now see what he hadn't noticed since they had met. Their reflection. Their appearance. They… they…

"What's it do?" Jack curiously moved, trying to trick the boy in the mirror.

"It shows what you look like." Jackson explained. "See? That's… that's you. And this… is… It's me."

"That's me?" Jack's eyebrows raised. "Huh…" He looked from his reflection to Jackson. "We… we kind of look alike, don't you think?"

Jackson touched his face and looked from Jack to the mirror. That wasn't possible. But how? Why? Why had the moon created Jack in Jackson's image? What the hell was going on?! The only difference was their hair and eye color. Everything else was exactly the same, even the dishevelment of their hair. Every freckle, as light as they were. Every shape, contour, and dimple. Wait, there was one more difference. Jackson's skin was a healthy, flushed color. Still slightly pale from winter. Jack was pale with skin of ivory.

"Why?" Jackson breathed.

"Maybe this is why you're the only one that can see me." Jack reasoned. "Because… we're connected somehow."

"You mean like… we're the same people?" Jackson furrowed his brow. Somehow… that sounded right. He wasn't quite sure why, but it did.

"Or there was something about you that the Moon liked." Jack shrugged. "And he borrowed it. Or copied it. Or something. You were around longer, right? So… what if I'm based off of you?"

Jackson couldn't understand it. He didn't know what this meant. He looked up towards the sky, now wanting to ask the Moon questions himself. What was Jack and why did he look like Jackson? Now that Jackson thought about it, they even sounded alike. What was it about Jackson that the Moon saw and wanted to replicate into Jack Frost? That missing limb… hold on… it made sense now.

"No, no… you're… you're a part of me." Jackson realized. "It must have been… when I almost drowned." Jackson looked to Jack. "I almost died in that pond. You were born in that pond. Something happened… I don't know what, but… maybe I left something in that pond or the Moon took it, I don't know what. But…" Jackson clutched his hair, trying to understand. Everything felt like it was correct. It did. And that scared him. A piece of himself had been personified and given a life of it's own.

"Jack?" Jackson looked to the porch where Jill waited with a piece of bread. "Who are you talking to?"

"Nobody." Jackson shook his head. "Just… your big brother acting crazy again." He forced a grin and glanced to Jack who urged him to go inside with his family. Jackson followed Jill inside, plastering on a silly smile and put on his usual ploy. The rest of the day was spent finishing the cleaning, Jackson finding a way to fool around with every chore, Jack laughing the whole time.

Then Jackson realized what had Jack down. Winter was over. His method of interaction had vanished. The only way he could join in the games was with snow and frost. Now that it was difficult to produce, it made it nearly impossible for Jack to join in the crowd. It wasn't the time for snow. Jack Frost no longer had a place among them. But where could he go? Jackson had no answers.

Jackson wondered why it was they looked alike when he finally had the chance. He needed to think. This was all too much. He was thinking of begging the Moon for answers himself. There was a connection, that much was certain. They were linked somehow. He wasn't sure how or why, but he was going to find out if it took him the rest of his life.

Were they the same person? Was Jack Frost a part of Jackson Overland? Or perhaps… What if Jack Frost had actually always been around? Just… dormant? Was Jackson actually made in  _his_  image?

Or maybe Jackson was just insane. What if Jack Frost really was just a figment of his imagination? He knew kind of what he looked like since the last time he had looked in a mirror. He knew his brown hair spiked just so because that was just the unruly way it grew. He knew he had brown eyes and a square chin. Details were muddled, but maybe somewhere in his subconscious, he remembered exactly what he looked like and projected it into Jack Frost.

Jackson's head began to hurt again as he shared his thoughts with Jack. Once again, Jack wrapped his arms around Jackson to comfort him. It was okay, he assured the brunette. They didn't have to think about it. They didn't have to worry about it. Just because they discovered they shared similar appearances didn't mean anything changed. Their friendship would stay intact. Nothing changed.

Jackson leaned into Jack's strangely warm grip and smiled. He was content here, in Jack's arms. His worries were washed away and he glanced up at the Moon that began to rise just above the trees. He was so grateful for this friend that had been gifted to him. For whatever reason Jack Frost was created, however he was made, maybe it didn't matter. Even if all of Jackson's worries were because of this boy, it didn't matter because Jack eased him.

That's right. Jackson never had to think as hard. He never freaked out like this. He never worried about anything before Jack Frost. He was never scared or never had to think too deeply and never left with unanswered burning questions. Life was simple. Life was easy, aside from the constant nagging to stop slacking and grow up.

Jackson crawled into bed next to Jill late that night. His family had all fallen asleep by the time he came inside. He looked up as the spirit stood beside him who had placed a hand on his head. Jackson smiled up at him. He didn't think he'd forget his own appearance anytime soon. Now that he had his own personal mirror. The thought made him snort a bit. Jack ruffled Jackson's hair and wished him sweet dreams.

Jack peered over at Jill curiously. He reached over and grab at something above her head. Jackson's brows furrowed in confusion, but Jack left his unasked question unanswered. The spirit brushed his hand over something, as if he was petting an invisible animal. His hand lowered and hovered over Jill. He hesitated before placing a hand upon her forehead.

Jackson and Jack looked to each other, eyes wide in shock. Jill… he was tangible. Jack was able to touch her. But it seemed… only while she was sleeping? What did that mean? Jack quickly pulled his hand away, his gaze darting from his hand to Jill. Jackson sat up. Jill most certainly did not notice Jack before. In fact, several times today she had run through him. So why was he able to touch her as she slept?

"I'm going to… I'm going to check something." Jack nodded. "I'll see you later. Sleep well." Before Jackson could respond, Jack flew out the window.

Now more things to think about. More strange events and more strange discoveries about the being that was Jack Frost. Would Jackson ever figure out what he was?


End file.
